#so when those two overlap you get her taking the charge in writing a song to help chu2 and then being like oh god oh fuck lyrics

[chisatowo]

Shakes Chu2 violently. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you

#rat rambles #band posting #also layer but I am going to give chu2 a big hug then punt her into the sun #I find her mommy issues interesting cause of how like similar yet oppisite they are from mine lol #but even still that feeling of recieving unintentionally backhanded praise your whole life hits close to home for me #also I love a lot of layers stuff in this story #like god her openly talking abt how stuck in the past she used to be and how ras helped her finally move forward #fuck man I love them sm also love how theyre such a weird mix of confident and deeply anxious they are #she seems a lot more comfortable being a supporting figure to others than the lead of the show #so when those two overlap you get her taking the charge in writing a song to help chu2 and then being like oh god oh fuck lyrics #she will gladly deliver emotional speeches with confidence but if you so much as imply her lyrics arent good shell cry #also very fond of this translater letting masking swear you go king say fuck #but yeah I will be rotating ras in my mind as I try to fall asleep since its 2 am and I rly shouldnt have decided to read this now gmfkfjfj #and unfortunately I am having layer character analysis thoughts so gn gamers better pray its not still continuing by tomorrow djfkdjv

[tenglows]

in the name of the old days

summary: it’s the last day of the year and you’re feeling nostalgic. you come across the twitter of the boy who used to be your best friend a few years ago, and decide to message him.

category: fluff, a bit of angst? maybe??, internet friend!mark

it was currently december 31, at half past one am, and you were scrolling on twitter

some chuckles here and there while reading your friend’s posts about timothee chalamet

you were about to close the app to go brush your teeth and prepare for bed

when your eyes wandered off and focused on another tweet

“almost 2020 and still no flying cars” read the tweet

from @/markly_

this made you sit straight in your mattress

you clicked on his profile

you two still followed each other

there weren’t a lot of recents tweets, so that’s why you figured you hadn’t come across the boy’s twitter sooner

plus; lately you weren’t the type to be so active on social media either

you mentally counted the years since you first met mark lee

it was 2019 (almost 2020) now and you guys had met in 2015

you had gotten involved in a drama with a one direction stan, you being part of 5sos stan twitter

and mark, little mix stan, had defended you

it was in the middle of the zayn and perrie scandal, so he assured both of your teams had to stick together to defeat one direction’s fans

you became mutuals after that

and you soon realized that mark had the tendency to initiate lots of twitter fights

often with the people that would bash perrie and her group

your friendship rose as the two of you took turns defending the other one on those enfrentations

you don’t know how but all of the sudden there was no day you wouldn’t talk to mark

you were both 16 at the time, you being older just by a few months

you guys would talk about everything and anything

and basically grew up together

you were there for him when school got hard and future scared him

he was there for you when you faced a pretty bad relationship

and you honestly considered him your best friend

sleepless nights with him on facetime were one of the things you looked forward to the most

hearing him talk about his day

him showing you a new song he learned on the guitar, or him playing some melodies and lyrics he composed himself every now and then

watching the same movie or show at the same time on your respective screens

struggling to press play together to match the exact second

“i totally knew he was gonna die”

“shut up you’re way ahead!!!!”

you had other friends at school, too

but mark was just mark

and you two had such a loving bond, you were so close you took him with you to everywhere you went

you just wished you had him closer

at least you were both from canada

him being from vancouver and you from quebec

you had made lots of plans about meeting in real life, and you genuinely believed they would come about

but it is true that time passes and people drift apart

you were about to begin college and made new friends

mark moved out to toronto

and gradually, the responses took longer

and the calls had kinda been left aside

until one of you just stopped replying

you honestly don’t remember who it was

but there isn’t really a reason, either

you just parted ways

and it’s fine, it’s human and natural and normal

but now looking at his profile picture: a polaroid of him hugging another boy

you felt as if a bucket of cold and frostbound nostalgia had been dumped over your head

you recognized his moles, and how he had the same smile

his header picture was a guitar

and it wasn’t the same he used to have, but something about him still liking music made you feel warm

it’s always astonishing to see how the life of a person who is no longer in yours just,,,

goes on

and you aren’t aware of a thing about their existence

or even think about them

so it’s almost as they don’t exist

but now you know mark still exists

and it’s so weird to think about how your lives had been so overlapped, so united

and now you didn’t know anything about him

the mix of reminiscence about this and the year ending

resulted in your impulsive fingers pressing the envelope icon in mark’s profile

you stayed like that for a few minutes, writing and deleting messages. the sentences you thought about never feeling enough

you sighed as you told yourself this would be the last attempt

“hi mark, i’m not sure if you remember me but i saw you on my tl and it made me want to check on you! maybe this message will disappear into thin air but i just wanted to try. i hope you’re doing well <3”

you stared at the blue bubble of text almost without blinking for a moment

maybe he didn’t want to talk to you, and it was okay. you stopped talking in 2017, almost three years had passed

you thought looking at yourself in the mirror while you brushed your teeth

you came back to your room and turned off your lights, ready to go to sleep

but when you grabbed your phone with the intention to charge it, you saw you had a twitter notification

“y/n! how could i forget about you? haha it’s been so long two years without talking. how are you? how’s life? tell me something”

an instant smile started growing upon your face

the way he texted was the same as before

and you missed his haha

two and a half hours into the night you felt as if you were stuck in 2015 all over again

you had always had this fluidity at the time of talking with mark

the conversation just,, bloomed

he told you he still lived in new york, but he was actually gonna move back to toronto in a couple of months

he was majoring in music and owned a soundcloud rap account, and he had gotten quite popular as well

you mentioned how you had changed majors

what started as you being a marketing management major ended up on you leaning towards philosophy

something that no one had seen coming

so you expected the same reaction from mark

“i can totally see it, you always liked to think and question everything a little too much”

and that comment made you feel thrilled in your stomach, to say the least

even after all these years

mark was probably the person who knew you the most

days passed

weeks, even

and what you thought was just a conversation remembering the old days and filling the other in on your life

just,,, never stopped

mark and you went back to talking every day

everything felt the same as it did before

because after all, it was the same mark. it was always mark

still, the day you had agreed on facetiming for the first time again you felt kinda nervous

what if you ran out of what to talk about? what if it was suddenly weird?

and when you picked up the call and found yourself face to face with a flustered mark you knew he felt the same

you both hesitated as to who would speak first

him being the one to break the ice

“hey y/n” he giggled

“wow, your voice has gotten deeper”

he laughed loudly at your honesty, making you laugh back

“your hair is shorter”

“i know right? it was so long, i just got fed up of it reaching my waist”

“i like it, it looks pretty” he paused “you look pretty”

and in that moment you wondered how your heart could be beating this hard at a blurry screen with poor connection

comments like that kept making an appearance as time went by, sometimes from mark and eventually from your part

and that was the only thing that differed from the relationship you used to have with the one you had now

was it flirting? you didn’t know

but you had never thought of mark the way you think about him now

“so? what do you think?”

you set the phone on your desk as you walked away and showed mark your white dress. you were on your way to a costume party one of your friend’s brother was throwing, and even though it was cliché, you couldn’t be bothered to think of a more ingenious costume than a traditional angel

mark took his time fixing his gaze on you, his eyes getting closer to concentrate on what the vague wifi let him

“i can’t recognize the costume”

“what do you mean? i’m literally wearing wings and a halo”

“could it be because you always look like an angel?”

“ayee mark that was cheesy”

“i know, i’m sorry” you both laughed

“but really, you look amazing. go and have fun babe”

then pet names came into play

you weren’t sure what you were doing, but flirting with mark was sweet and fun and innocent

you always found yourself wanting for more

you were yearning for mark, you wanted to see him, listen to him, touch him

and you didn’t know what to do with yourself

until one day he called you out of the blue, which startled you, since he always asked before calling

“hey! were you busy?”

“no no i’m just doing the dishes, what’s up?”

“okay, so you know how i’m moving to toronto in two weeks, right?” you nodded “well, i just managed to change my flight so i would go to quebec for some days before properly settling in toronto, you know since it’s not that far”

“you’re kidding”

“i’m going to visit you!!!!!!!”

he squealed in your ear and you squealed back, scaring your poor cat who was sleeping soundly

after some more yelling, the excitement died out a bit and you stayed in silence for just a few seconds

“i don’t really have a place to stay though” he snorted, embarrassed

“you can always stay with me, mark”

after some long and never-ending hours and days (you had seriously convinced yourself some wrinkles had appeared on your forehead from all the waiting)

it was finally the day you would see mark

it was currently 11 am, mark’s flight was at 1 pm and he would arrive at quebec at approximately a bit less than 3 pm

now, he was at new york’s airport taking care of all the travelling procedures

and you were cleaning up the same spots in your aparment for the fourth time in a row

to say you were nervous was an understanding

you felt like you were going insane

you barely had gotten any sleep the night before, not being able to defeat the crowding thoughts about finally meeting your long-time friend

(who now you wanted to be more than a friend and seeing him physically could totally help with that)

you arranged some lunch for you and your cat (magnus) and sat in front of the tv, wanting to find literally anything that would keep your mind occupied

luckily, it worked, and you let yourself lose track of time

until your phone beeped, indicating you had received a text

“i’m boarding now!! i’ll text you when i get there, can’t wait to see you”

“have a safe flight love”

you sighed dramatically and rested your arm against your forehead

magnus stared at you in confusion and boredom

“magnus, i think i’m going to die”

as promised, mark texted you as soon as the plane landed

you offered to go pick him up at the airport, but he denied, saying he had already scheduled a taxi

so now you were ready and dressed, going all over your apartment non stop

mark was texting you through all the taxi drive and updating you on his location, you growing more and more anxious as you knew he was getting closer

you went to the bathroom and as soon as you stepped out, a knock was heard on your door

it was soft and steady, and you opened your eyes widely when the realization of who the owner of the hand was hit you

you panicked, one last time

you even eyed your room window to check if you had any chance of jumping out and running away

but you took a deep breath and walked decidedly towards your door

you just had to remind yourself it was the same mark as always, and nothing could go wrong if there was him

thus, you opened the door

and the facetime pixels and instagram pictures could have never prepared you for how dreamy mark looked

you two stayed like that for a bit

just watching the other with shy eyes and smiles

you eventually snapped out of your trance and helped mark get his luggage inside

"it's a bit small but i hope you can make yourself comfortable"

"oh please it's perfect, don't worry" he gave you a reassuring smile before getting totally distracted by the fluffy ball of hair in your couch

"oh my god is that magnus!!!!"

after letting mark get comfortable and installed, you guys decided to take a walk and go over your apartment zone, showing mark all your favorite places and memories you had there

it was a bit cold and you were both tightened around your coats

eventually, it was getting late and more chilly

so you opted for going back to your place

as you walked there in a bit of silence, you could feel mark's body getting more close in proximity

you looked at him, his gaze fixed upon the path with a small grin on his lips

you got closer too

and you liked it

it was cold outside but when mark brushed against your body

canada has never felt more like summer

you guys were really close now

as you took step after step, your jackets made static sounds, rubbing against the other

you looked at mark and delicately touched one of his fingers with your pinky, as if asking for permission

he finally looked up from the way and focused on your eyes instead, breaking into a smile once again

he took a peek at your close hands and softly intertwined your fingers

both of your faces reddening, from the low temperature and the feelings that were growing in your stomach

when you got to your apartment you guys were still holding hands, but you realized you had to open the door with that one, and couldn't find the keys in your pocket

"y/n, you will have to let go of my hand to get the keys"

"that's the point. i don't want to"

"y/n, i'm freezing. please open the door i can still hold your hand when we're inside"

and yeah,,

he did

you changed into comfortable and warm clothes and prepared some hot chocolate while mark chose a movie in your laptop

when you entered the room, two mugs in hand

mark was lying on his stomach on your bed, his hand on his chin with his mouth a bit open while concentrating on the variation of movies netflix offered

you felt a shiver down your spine

he really was here

after taking a while to decide on a movie, or at least its genre, you just selected a random title

you turned off the lights and went back to your bed, getting under the covers

and you just felt warm

and whole

maybe more because of mark than the actual sheets that were meant to keep you heated

(he also held your hand the entire time, rubbing his thumb against your palm and drawing invisible figures on it)

your head rested on his shoulder and you went up as the same time his chest did with every breath he took

in some moment you stopped paying attention to the movie

your mind wandered off to thoughts about the boy, about how you have never felt this close to him. you felt like you were really inside his ribcage

still from his shoulder, you moved a bit so you could look at him

his face was glowing

yeah, the images and lights of the computer were reflecting on him

but you meant this boy glowed in the dark

he just had something in him

it was either rays of sunshine or neon paint

but he, in this frosty and amusing night within your bedroom walls, glowed on his own

he turned his gaze towards you too, and tightened the grip on your hand

you felt mark’s arm on your waist and he rearranged the position so you would be on his chest

hearing his heartbeat, it was music

mark always did music. and he himself was music too, his heart creating your new favorite beat

“markie”

“hm?”

“i’m falling asleep” you confessed with a drowsy voice, making him laugh

“let’s turn off the movie, shall we? we can continue it tomorrow”

he shut the laptop closed and placed it on your desk, quickly making his way back to the bed so he would hold you

you had prepared him another bed next to you, a mattress already covered

but he was showing no intentions of moving a muscle

“are you going to sleep here?”

“that was the plan, yeah” he giggled on your neck. you shuddered

“i made the bed just in case”

“i can go there if you prefer”

“no” pause “i want you here”

and he smiled proudly as he hid his face in the crook of your neck

you smelled nice, like coconut and vainilla and all his sweetest dreams combined

and with his arms around your waist he felt strong, like he could defeat anything that the world aimed at him

“do you think it was meant to be that we’re here after all this years? would you consider it destiny?” he thought out loud, gazing at you

“i can’t give you an answer right now”

“fine, philosophy major” he mocked, making you both laugh

“as a philosophy major, i don’t know. destiny is always a tricky thing to discuss”

“but as y/n, yeah, i believe it was meant to be”

he stared at you in awe

“i really want to kiss you right now”

#mark lee au #mark lee scenario #mark lee fluff #nct au #mark lee #nct fluff #superm mark #nct mark #nct #superm #fluff #angst

[kzesl]

Kdrama: Moorim school-thoughts

I have a lot of feelings about Moorim School: Saga of the Brave, and guess what? I’m going to share. Fair warning, this post is probably going to be a jumbled mess. Like me. I’m a jumbled mess. Spoilers ahoy.

Meet everyone at the school. They all look dorky. Headmaster in the middle, students on the left and teachers on the right, with some overlap.

How I got into this one? I watched Secretly, greatly (ouch, my feels. I could write a long post about it. Stop me. Please.) and then I decided to see what else Lee Hyun Woo has acted in. Because he was an adorable badass in it, and I am weak.

Objectively speaking, Moorim school is not very good. I, however, don’t watch things objectively. Why be objective when you can be subjective? Right? Right. This is not a kdrama that I would recommend to anyone who has never watched a kdrama before. This is a drama for those who like certain, specific things in their dramas. I enjoyed it. Even though I had to increase the speed at times. I use Super Netflix extension occasionally, I admit.

What is it about?

This is the IMDb summary: Moorim School isn't focused on high academic scores. The school teaches students virtues including honesty, faith, sacrifice and communication. The teachers and students at the school come from different countries with their own stories.

These are the four main characters, from left to right: Wang Chi-Ang, Shim Soon-deok, Yoon Shi-Woo, and Hwang Sun-ah.

The intro is a bit misleading. It makes you expect badassery and mysticism, and instead you get a bunch of dorks arguing about who gets the bed with a good view though the window.

It starts with a man protecting a little girl, and fighting off a bunch of mean looking men, dressed in black (gasp! Bad guys) in the woods. The fight scenes are not exactly good. They make me cringe. It’s not high production. However, not every series can be like K2 when it comes to fight scenes. It’s a bit bad, because the series focuses on martial arts quite a bit, but eh. They managed to convey that the man protecting the girl is a badass. Let us move on and not mention the quality of action scenes again. He fights the bad guys off and hides with the girl behind a shield that he raises by activating magical symbols. (Magic is never explained. Everyone just accepts its existence. It’s not taught at the school either. It just exists and no one questions it.)

Then we jump to eighteen years later.

People are preparing for a concert, but the main star, the most popular member of k-pop group Möbius, Yoon Shi-Woo, is sleeping instead of rehearsing. He gets chewed out, but he is not overly concerned. He’s got bigger problems, like the splitting headaches and wonky hearing.

Next we meet Wang Chi-Ang, who is spoiled, sheltered momma’s boy, who only wants to make her happy and his father, the chairman of the Shang Hai group, proud. He’s in the city to go to the concert, because his father’s company is sponsoring it. Shi-Woo is a model for their company.

Shim Soon-deok is a resourceful young woman who is working hard to support herself and her blind father. She sells food at the concert, and she works at a chicken place. She also attends Moorim school. The ladies are badass in this series. Which is nice.

Hwang Sun-ah is Soon-deok’s friend and Shi-Woo’s biggest fan. She calls him my Shi-Woo (headcanon: she is the founder of his fan club. It is a secret she will take to her grave, because it feels a bit awkward when certain truths come to light. Headcanon 2: Shi-Woo knows, but lets her think he doesn’t.). She had to sneak out to go to the concert, because her father, the headmaster of Moorim school is overprotective.

There are a couple of shirtless scenes and Shi-Woo has a Very Important Necklace, which we know because the camera focuses on it a lot.

Chi-Ang and Shi-Woo are accidentally given the same room at a hotel. Oh, no. Who’s going to be the one to leave?!?! Chi-Ang attempts to throw his weight around and refuse to sponsor Shi-Woo, because everything is a competition for that man and he has to win. But Shi-Woo is unimpressed and uninterested and like cool, whatevs, day off.

That’s Shi-Woo there, in white. No fucks given. Can’t win against someone who’s not playing, Chi-Ang. Now this says a lot about their future relationship. Chi-Ang always tries to win, and Shi-Woo always refuses to compete.

The concert goes okay, until there is an accident on stage and Shi-Woo almost gets injured/dies because a piece of equipment starts falling on him and he doesn’t hear everyone shout at him to move because of the wonky hearing. He slows the equipment down with his surprise magical powers and Sun-ha manages to save him. She tells him to go to Moorim school, but doesn’t tell him how to get there (who needs directions, anyway).

Both he and Chi-Ang end up there in the end. Chi-Ang because his father insists (he has nefarious plans) and the girl he likes goes to the same school, and Shi-Woo because he wants help with his hearing. There is a possibility that he will permanently loose it and music is all he has. He is an orphan who has no one else in this world since his manager/father figure turned out to be all about the money. Also, the relationship he has with the rest of his group seems strictly professional. And Möbius was the name he used for himself before he was even scouted. So it predates the group. (I want to read a fic about group feels, or an AU where they are actually close.)

Also, the shield magically comes down when they come close to the school for the first time, and that was not supposed to happen and everyone is concerned. But that relates to the plot and the plot is a bit meh. I’m here for the relationships anyway. (Sigh. The plot had potential.)

Things happen, and I won’t go into detail, but the two of them get expelled, go on a quest, get accepted back into the school and become friends. BFFs.

The school teaches cooking, martial arts, manners (I think), dance (?), meditation, and no other subject, it seems. It is a very weird school, and the professors are weird and nothing makes sense, but okay. Not many things about this series make sense. Moorim was created to ensure world peace, apparently. And it’s a martial arts school, primarily, but they are more focused on teaching good values. There aren’t that many students in this school, and they are from all over. I’m not sure how students are actually recruited. The school is a secret. Are they scouted? Are they those connected to Moorim? Or those who get lost in the woods outside of the school? Who knows. Not me. They also seem to struggle financially because the heating is off. Why else would everyone sleep pretty much fully clothed?

The other students in the school get some screen time, but their characters are not all that well fleshed out, so I found myself not caring too much. It got a bit better in later episodes. One of them keeps badmouthing others in English, for some reason. It’s not like on one understands him. Everyone understands him. He just likes speaking English, I guess.

There is a mysterious man in a coma, villains, a magical key split into three pieces that can lead to unlimited power, reunited families, surprise siblings, etc.

Also, let’s ignore how quickly some people became good at martial arts. Now, I’m no expert, but I have a bit of experience in martial arts and I have known some extremely talented individuals, prodigies, but even they needed more than two months to get anywhere. I’m going to leave it at that. Magic is real in this universe. It’s magic. Problem solved.

The part I like the most about this series is the relationship between Chi-Ang and Shi-Woo. They start off as roommates who don’t like one another, so they fight a lot. It changes, but- Now I’m all for men being shown as having other male friends they can have healthy relationships with, someone they could lean on and cry in front of, if necessary, without toxic masculinity getting in the way. Let men be friends, yeah? And I’m not one who immediately sees gay in everything. But, those two guys have the hots for each other. They’re all: I came back for you/I stayed for you/I miss you/You mean more to me than unlimited power/You’re so cool-No you are/Don’t smile, I might start liking you.

Ahem.

They like the same girl (Soon-deok). Which seemed very hard for them, but I believe that was the best thing that could have happened to them. Soon-deok kept refusing Chi-Ang, and she was very clear about it. She drew the line at one point, and he made me very uncomfortable when he outright told her that he doesn’t care about her lines. This could have turned very ugly if his rival had been anyone other than Shi-Woo. He threatened to destroy Shi-Woo more than once, and he came close to irreparably destroying their relationship, but in the end he didn’t. Because Shi-Wook had so much faith in him, he couldn’t bear to. Again, if it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have even hesitated. (Hmm, imagine a Dark AU. So many possibilities. )    

I have the urge to write fic. Sigh.

Also, at one point the students have a party and Möbius’s song plays in the background and no one teases Shi-Woo about it or peer pressures him into doing his part of the song or the dance, or even looks at him while smirking. WTH. Come one, guys!

Back to the two leads. It’s an interesting dynamic they have. And although Chi-Ang is taller, physically stronger and more imposing, it’s Shi-Woo who’s actually in charge. And I’m not going to tell you to get your mind out of the gutter, because that’s exactly where mine is. And Chi-Ang looks like he might have a serious praise kink. Besides, we have seen that Shi-Woo is not shy about going after what he wants. As we saw with the two kissing scenes with Soon-deok, he is quietly assertive. Unlike Chi-Ang, who is more… bluster and need for attention.

Shi-Woo started as this arrogant, irritable superstar, but it didn’t take him long to shed that behavior, that image. As if, all this time, he was just waiting for a moment out of the spotlight, for a place where he can belong. He seems like one of those people who were born knowing which lines they are not willing to cross. His urge to harm someone is his greatest fear, because he is aware of the damage he is capable of inflicting.

Chi-Ang had different masks. He too knew loneliness, but his was of a different kind. While Shi-Woo was not protected enough, Chi-Ang was sheltered too much. His mother dotes on him, and his father adores him, albeit in his own, extremely unhealthy way. It was clear to me from the start that his father loves him. It seems a significant thing that he is the son of a mistress and not legitimate, but his father has made no attempt to hide him. He provides for him, protects him and spoils him. He has no kind words for him, though, and his lessons are poison, but he tried to make his son strong. Which is what he values. And he has used him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love him. He just doesn’t know how to love properly. 

Chi-Ang takes after his father in many ways. We see that the most in later episodes. But he has people who have faith in him, and who are willing to tell him off. He is aware that he is wiling to cross too many lines, lines he shouldn’t. He is gray, and will probably always struggle with himself. He seems like a puppy most of the time, but when he is serious about something, his determination is a scary thing.

Shi-Woo would make a more terrifying villain, though. He wouldn’t become one, precisely because he terrifies himself when he thinks about what he could do, if pushed enough.

I could talk more about this series. There are quite a few touching moments I could cover, and also a lot of ridiculousness and wth moments, but there is a reason I didn’t do a recap of every episode. I don’t have time. Besides, I wrote all of this just to get it off my chest, because I have no fandom friends to discuss stuff with. It is sad.

Also, I should have broken up the text in this with a few more photos, but I’m tired.

#kdrama #korean drama #moorim school #headcanons meta fic musings

[megaphonemonday]

Please please please. Bawson prompt where Mike and Ginny have time off and decide to attend Comic Con. Lawson being a huge Star Wars nerd and perhaps Ginny dressing up as Princess Leia to surprise Mike. Eternally grateful.

i’ve never been to a con and only watched the original Star Wars trilogy after I saw ep 7, so i’m uniquely unqualified to write this? but when has that ever stopped me before?

a new hope | ao3

“You’re not gonna make me wear the bikini, are you?”

Mike adamantly did not choke on his tongue, but Jesus did he want to. Bad enough that they had to sit through this meeting at all, now Mike had to do it while pretending an image of Ginny in that iconic costume wasn’t occupying all his focus? 

What the hell had he done to make the universe hate him so goddamn much?

“No, no. Nothing like that,” Oscar assured her without batting an eye. He leaned his elbows on his desk and stared down the three Padres seated across from him. Blip, Ginny, and Mike stared back, largely unimpressed. 

Before their GM got a chance to press his case, though, Blip decided it was his turn to crack a joke. 

“Well, I’m not wearing it,” he drawled, wicked grin lighting up his face.

Mike allowed himself to react to that, leaping on the chance to fight back the wild tangent—Ginny and gold and miles and miles of smooth skin—his imagination so eagerly provided. This was not the time for that, no matter what his mind (and something a bit further south than his brain) might tell him. 

He snorted. Ginny did, too, though she tried to play it off as a cough. 

Oscar finally grimaced, looking vaguely pained. 

Well, if fucking with the front office was on the table, Mike could definitely get behind that. He shook his head (and with it the idea of Ginny in any kind of swimwear) before rubbing a contemplative hand against his chin and offering, “I’ll see about getting mine back from the dry cleaner.”

Ginny’s lips flickered in a quick smile, there and gone in a flash. Blip, though, didn’t bother reining in his amusement. He guffawed from her other side, reaching around the pitcher to offer Mike a fist bump. 

Oscar just heaved a sigh, entirely too put upon. 

“Are you done?” Their GM looked nowhere close to entertained. Not that it bothered the three ballplayers. 

Still, they all traded glances and, after a silent conference, nodded their agreement. 

Rather than risk them changing their minds, Oscar plowed forward. “The Publicity Office hasn’t settled on the final details, but I can assure you there will be no swim suits involved. Can we count you three in?”

Mike shot a glance first to Blip. The center fielder shrugged. It was no skin off his back to dance to the front office’s tune this time, as long as he also got his pot shots in. They were in agreement there, so both men turned to focus on the woman sitting between them.

Ginny gnawed on her lip uncertainly as she weighed her options. No one, aside from maybe Amelia, would blame her for sitting this one out. But even Amelia could probably agree that having her client’s face plastered across every Padres ad spot, every bit of promotional material, since she’d been called up last season was exposure enough. Nonetheless, it only took a moment for Ginny’s eyes to slide to Blip and then Mike, checking to see they were all in agreement. 

Mike did his best to show her, when she turned those luminous brown eyes on him, that he’d follow her call, no matter what. Thankfully, whatever she saw, it was enough to get Ginny to give him a shallow but decisive nod. 

That settled, her thoughtful frown faded and was replaced by her deep dimples, flanking the grin spreading across her face. Mike only got a quick glimpse of it before she turned back to the desk and the anxious GM sitting behind it.

“I’m in,” she declared, to Oscar’s clear relief. 

Mike personally thought that was a little premature given the mischievous spark kindling in Ginny’s eyes. Blip was clearly in agreement, settling back into his chair and folding his arms over his chest, delighted anticipation lighting up his face. 

And Ginny Baker did her best not to disappoint. 

Still grinning, and flanked by her two teammates, she laid her lone stipulation on a long-suffering Oscar: 

“But only if I get to hold the lightsaber.”

Mike wouldn’t say that his love of Star Wars is anything even approaching a secret. Sure, it wasn’t the coolest thing about him—hello, he was a major league ballplayer—but it wasn’t like he’s lied about liking it during his time in the majors.

Exhibit 1: Every season the graphics team made him re-answer the same Fun Fact! questionnaire for the Jumbotron and every season his favorite movie was Empire Strikes Back. It was probably on his Wikipedia page by now—it’d be one of the few true things on there. 

Exhibit 2: He’d actually bought the theme song and set it as his ringtone. Back when people actually had ringtones, at least. 

Exhibit 3: He’d named his dog Jedi for god’s sake, and proceeded to talk about that poor, dumb dog a lot, oftentimes to reporters who were far more interested in his OPS and the tweaks he was making to his batting stance. It was a matter of public record.

Nonetheless, Mike also wouldn’t say it was something that a lot of people actively knew about him. And that suited him just fine. After all, he had a reputation in his clubhouse to preserve. He couldn’t very well maintain order and lay down the law if his entire team thought he was no better than the geeks so many of them had spent their high school careers pantsing and shoving in lockers. 

But this might be the year when that hard-earned reputation as a hard ass went up in smoke. 

Because this year, Mike Lawson was going to Comic Con.

Okay, he was going to stand outside the San Diego Convention Center wearing a silly costume to film the ad spot for Petco Park’s annual Star Wars Night, but who cared? 

He was going to fucking Comic Con. 

He wasn’t sure who in the front office this bright idea belonged to, but he was seriously considering sending them a gift basket of some kind. At the very least, a thank you card.

In all the years Mike had played San Diego baseball, he’d never actually had a chance to attend. When he first started playing, it wasn’t nearly the three ring circus that it would one day become. Before his very eyes, he’d gotten to witness it evolve from a niche convention to the star-studded event of the summer. 

Well. Sort of. 

Mostly, he’d gotten to marvel over the proceedings and pandemonium from across the street for a few minutes each year before getting back to business. 

What sacrifices he made to live the dream, right? 

So now that Mike was finally getting a shot at coming within spitting distance of the convention hall, he wasn’t going to stop there. Despite having no passes to speak of, he was determined to get inside and see Hall H for himself. He did, after all, have a secret weapon on his side. 

Well, she would be once he’d convinced her.

“C’mon, Baker,” he urged, leaning against her door and flashing what he hoped was a winning grin. He was going to charm her into this, damn it. Not wheedle and whine. Still, his next words weren’t quite the pinnacle of persuasive power he’d hoped for. “It’ll be fun.” 

“I doubt that,” Ginny huffed, swiveling side to side in her rolling chair. She eyed him suspiciously. “This is the third time you’ve brought it up, though, so you really must think so.”

He shrugged, trying to play it off. 

The funny little smile on her face told him he wasn’t particularly successful. Rather than tease him, she drew a knee up to her chest and began unlacing her cleat. “Okay, say I were to concede that it could be fun,”—Mike perked up at this softening of her earlier blunt refusal, though of course that wasn’t the end of it—“I don’t see how I’m supposed to get us in. Don’t you need tickets or something?”

“Well, yeah, but you’re Ginny Baker.”

She started working on the other shoe, though how she managed when her eyes were rolling hard enough to fall out of her face was a mystery. She’d accused him last summer of doing it too much, but the way Mike saw it, Ginny was just the pot (Or was it the kettle? Something like that.) in this situation. 

“Yeah, ‘cause there’s a lot of overlap between the geeks at Comic Con and the clinically Ginn-sane.”

“You’ve got crossover appeal,” he tried, though it sounded weak to his ears for all the truth of it. God, he was off his game. “And who says geeks can’t have layers?”

“You talkin’ from experience there, Lawson?”

If Ginny’d just been teasing him the way she’d done all season—like relentless humor would erase any number of charged moments they couldn’t seem to keep from stumbling into—Mike could’ve replied the way he had all season, with a gruff reminder of who was captain here. 

(Which, honestly, was far more effective in reminding Mike why those moments should be avoided like the plague. He was her captain for Chrissake. Of course there couldn’t be any more than fleeting, godawful tempting, moments between them. No matter how appealing she looked, grinning up at him after landing a solid dig, or how much he wanted to know how long it would take for him to kiss that grin away.)

He would’ve done just that, except his mental facilities were otherwise occupied. 

Because Ginny had chosen that moment to stand up and start unbuttoning her jersey, casual as anything. Like it didn’t matter that he was standing right there as she shrugged it off and was left in just the clingy spandex of her undershirt. 

It probably didn’t matter. Mike had seen her dressed exactly like this at least a hundred times before. He’d almost gotten used to the fact that he could usually make out the outline of her sports bra—and sometimes, when the A/C was cranked all the way up, even more than that. 

Except, Mike had never been confronted with the direct prospect of Ginny Baker getting undressed before. 

(Not even at that goddamn photo shoot last season when he’d caught sight of her in that robe, fiddling with the tie before she looked up and saw him. 

And Mike’s had dreams about that day. Dreams where Ginny didn’t march over and twitch the curtains closed and where no one else was within even shouting distance of the studio. Which was a good thing because those dreams were not always quiet.)

Like she had no idea what was going through his mind—or, worse, did—Ginny’s hands fell to her belt buckle just as she looked up at him, an eyebrow arched in question. 

Mike’s brain shorted out. 

He muttered something, though God only knew what, and got the hell out of there. 

It was the only option. After all, there was no way he could focus on getting Ginny on his side of this Comic Con thing if half his brain—and some certain other body parts, if he was being honest—was more concerned with getting her somewhere else entirely.

In the end, Mike never broached the subject with Ginny again. It was probably better for all involved if he didn’t try and nudge her into doing something she was skeptical about. 

(Mike tried to tell himself he only meant Comic Con. 

He was at least partially successful.)

Instead, he tried to focus on the positives. He’d get to hang out near Comic Con for a few hours, and on Star Wars Day no less, which was better than he’d managed so far in his life. He’d get to see all the people in their costumes and chat with some fans and maybe even see about sweet talking his way inside for just a peek around.

It would be fun.

Thank God it actually was. 

He, Blip, and Ginny had a blast filming their bits for the promo. Mike couldn’t remember laughing so hard or so helplessly in a long time. Ginny got to hold the only lightsaber, as promised, and was like a kid in a candy store with it. The shoot director had her swing it like a baseball bat while Blip and Mike pitched plushy little Stormtrooper heads at her. More of them ended up hitting her than not, but she didn’t seem to mind much. Blip and Ginny got into a wookiee roar-off, though neither of them, in Mike’s unwanted opinion, were all that good at it. No one had to wear the gold bikini, though plenty of con attendees had made their own. Mike gamely put on the Leia wig and frowned forbiddingly at the camera for a few moments even though he just knew it’d end up in the final cut. 

It was worth it for the way Ginny’s cheeks pinked up as she howled with laughter, leaning heavily against Blip to keep her balance. 

All told, the whole process only took a few hours, most of which were spent goofing off and looking like incredible dorks. 

He’d certainly had worse days.

Still, Mike couldn’t help but look wistfully up at the massive edifice of the Convention Center when the ad director called a wrap. He shook it off quickly enough, shaking hands with the various crew and clapping Ginny and Blip on the back before heading towards the Park to pick up his car and go home. 

Maybe yelling at Attack of the Clones would cheer him up. 

“Lawson, where are you going?”

He turned around and came face to face with a puzzled Ginny Baker. Her brows were drawn together in confusion, a light sheen of sweat glimmering there, dark curls blown wild by the sea breeze. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. In a Padres blue shirt with the words “San Diego” stretched across her chest in the Star Wars font—a shirt which happened to match his—and one of her endless pairs of leggings, Ginny didn’t look all that different from usual.

Which, Mike supposed, was exactly the point.

“Home, Baker,” he said, well used to repressing any and all thoughts about Ginny. They were all dangerous at this point. “To have a beer and take advantage of the off day.”

“Oh, I thought—” Her lips pursed uncertainly before she swung her backpack to one shoulder so she could rifle through it. After a moment, she drew out two lanyards, each hung with a plastic card sporting a familiar logo. Mike stared at them for a beat before refocusing on Ginny’s face. She grinned a little, but it was fading fast. “I thought you wanted to go—”

“I did. I do,” he corrected fast, almost tripping over the words. “Definitely. I just didn’t think—”

Ginny relaxed almost immediately, her forehead smoothing out. “Well, who am I to deny the Padres’ number one Star Wars fan?”

Mike couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Where’d you hear that one?”

“Sonny,” she replied promptly, bright grin returning. “Then Butch, Blip, and Bessner. Tommy texted me about it. Even Al said he hoped you’d get a kick out of seeing all the Star Trek stuff.” 

He ignored his skipper’s flub; Al refused to watch anything that wasn’t on A&E or the History Channel. Instead, Mike picked up one of the lanyards still dangling from Ginny’s fingers, examining the pass for a moment before letting it fall back to join the other. 

Gruff, but just so he wouldn’t tip his hand, he said, “Just because our teammates have big mouths doesn’t mean you had to do this.”

She shrugged, clearly a little uncomfortable. Mike raised a brow and she busied herself with righting her backpack, ducking her head so she wouldn’t have to look at him. Jesus, did he want to reach out and tip her chin up, give him a better view of those wide, brown eyes. Thankfully, for everyone involved, he kept his hands to himself and just waited her out. 

When she was done and it was clear Mike wasn’t going anywhere without an explanation, Ginny blew out a huff of slightly disgruntled air. 

“I know I didn’t. Just—” Here she paused, tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth as she weighed her words. Not that it seemed to do her much good since she let them all out in a rush, “I felt bad for calling you a geek.”

Mike rocked back a little on his heels. Was that what she thought happened? Well, he should probably be grateful she hadn’t assumed he couldn’t keep his perving under control, but, Christ. How fragile did she think he was?

“Baker, you told me to get my fat ass back behind the plate just last week. Geek’s where you think you crossed the line?”

Ginny at least seemed to see ridiculousness of the situation, a grin curling over her full lips. She flapped her hand at him anyway, saying, “It’s different on the field. Plus, you stopped asking about it when you’d really seemed so excited. It wasn’t that hard to get these.” Her fingers waggled at him and the plastic passes clacked together lightly.

Yeah, sure. Mike knew for a fact that Comic Con Badges sold out in the blink of an eye. 

Still, he couldn’t help but glance back to the Convention Center.

Sensing that she had him on the ropes, (And why was he resisting at all? A full day with Ginny, schooling her on all the wrong opinions she’d spouted during the commercial shoot, sounded like the fucking dream. Or one of them, anyway. Which, then again, was exactly why Mike should go straight home and forget all about this encounter.) Ginny pressed her case. 

“C’mon, Mike,” she cajoled, waving the lanyard in his face. “It’ll be fun.”

Hearing his own words echoed back at him, Mike folded like a house of cards. In one swift move, he liberated a pass from Ginny’s grip and had it hanging from his neck. “All right,” he agreed. “But I’m not gonna play body guard for you when everyone on the floor realizes exactly who’s in their midst.”

She laughed, shaking her head, but Mike didn’t care that she didn’t agree with him. Ginny Baker was smiling at him, a fond spark brightening her already twinkling eyes. As far as he was concerned, Ginny could call him a moron and a geek and an old man and whatever else she wanted just as long as she kept smiling at him like that.

But then it was gone as she turned on her heel and marched off towards the entrance. “I really think you’re overestimating how popular I am,” she tossed over her shoulder with a little smirk, leaving Mike to catch up. 

Well. What else was new?

In a way, they were both right. 

Ginny certainly got recognized and was stopped every so often for a selfie or an autograph. To be fair, Mike was, too, but Ginny bore the brunt of the attention. Given the relaxed set of her shoulders and the genuine grins she gave everyone who approached, Mike could tell this was hardly the worst she’d ever dealt with. 

Mostly, though, people’s eyes seemed to pass right over them. 

Ginny insisted that meant she was right: there wasn’t a big enough overlap between sports fans and con dwellers. Mike figured it had more to do with what they were wearing. Well, what they weren’t wearing. After all, it was easy to overlook two more people in street clothes when there were so many amazing, and frankly baffling, costumes on display. 

Even when one of those people was arguably the most famous woman in America. Certainly in San Diego every other weekend of the year. 

Mike, personally, couldn’t figure it out. He couldn’t conceive of any situation in which Ginny Baker simply faded into the crowd. No matter what, no matter the size of the room or the number of people, she’d always be the first and best thing he noticed.

Apparently, though, Mike’s feelings were not universal (and what a lucky son of a bitch he was for that small mercy). So, it was easy enough for them to slip through the crowd, largely unnoticed, and straight to the Star Wars booth. 

Booth was maybe—definitely—underselling what it really was. Even through the masses of people, it was impossible for Mike to miss, looming over the entire convention hall and making his poor, fanboy heart thunder in excitement. Once inside the huge pavilion, he couldn’t decide what needed to be inspected first. Well, he wasn’t about to waste time trying to figure it out, so he dove right in, only absently checking to make sure Ginny followed along. There was a model X-Wing taller than he was and just a little further on, that was a bank of costumes and props from the new movie. Dotted around the space was station upon station of merchandise, selling everything from replica lightsabers—far more realistic than the one Ginny’d swung around all afternoon—to licensed costumes to the tie in comic books and action figures. And plastered across every flat surface were giant Star Wars logos. Just in case anyone forgot exactly where they were. 

In short, it was a Star Wars fan’s Holy Grail. 

Mike could only marvel, and feel a little nostalgic, over what he’d been missing out on all these years. He would’ve killed to see something like this as a kid, though even if it’d been around, there was no way his mom could’ve taken him. 

Still, he got to see it now, and it really was amazing. Almost overwhelming, to be honest. But still ridiculously cool to finally experience. 

And it was all thanks to Ginny.

Now that the initial frenzy had faded enough that Mike could think clearly about something other than a galaxy far, far away, he sheepishly turned to make sure he hadn’t lost track of her. 

Well, he definitely had, but at least she’d kept an eye on him, making sure to stay in his orbit as he geeked out. He had vague recollections of letting his excitement spill over and gushing to her over every little detail that caught his interest. She’d always responded, suppressed amusement coating her words, not that Mike was really in the right frame of mind to appreciate how much she was indulging him.

He was now.

He chanced an embarrassed look at her, but she was already looking back, a fond smile on her face.

“Sorry,” he muttered, feeling the tips of his ears begin to burn, only about ten minutes too late. Jesus, this was not how to convince women he was worth their time and attention. Not that he was doing that with Ginny, but—

“For what?” she laughed, though it hardly stung. For all she was definitely laughing at him, it was too warm and sweet for him to mind. “I didn’t know there was room for anything other than batting stats and heat maps in that head of yours. It’s nice to know you’ve got range.”

He rolled his eyes, but still said, “For geeking out on you, I know you’re not—”

“I don’t know why you think I’m not into geeks, Lawson,” she interrupted, with some kind of significance in her tone. “If you haven’t noticed, they’re kind of my thing.” 

Thinking about it—which Mike really tried to avoid when it came to Ginny’s dating habits—he realized she wasn’t wrong. 

After her thing with video game guy fizzled in the off season, Ginny’d been out on more than a few well-publicized dates. Often with Bay Area tech guys. Mike had just figured she was getting as far away from ballplayer jock-types as she could. But maybe if a ballplayer jock-type also happened to—

“Your thing, huh?” was all he could bring himself to say.

Ginny rolled her eyes, and he couldn’t begin to figure out how she found it so annoying when he did it. On her, Mike couldn’t look away. “My type or whatever.”

“I see. So that means I should go give that guy your number?” He nodded to the beanpole of a kid who’d been staring not so subtly at Ginny’s ass for the last five minutes. If anyone fit the role of “geek,” it was that kid. 

(If Mike were interested in being fair, he’d acknowledge that the kid also happened to have excellent taste. Ginny’s ass in this—and every—pair of leggings was practically a work of art. 

Thank God Mike had no interest in being fair.)

Right on cue, she turned to look and the guy in question turned bright red and spun around to disappear into the crowd. 

Good.

“If you think your creaky knees can catch up with him, be my guest.”

That startled a laugh out of Mike. At this point, he wasn’t sure how she kept managing to surprise him, but Ginny Baker was never one to rest on her laurels. So, Mike laughed long and loud in the middle of the San Diego Convention Center, ignoring the confused looks being sent his way as he delighted in the woman standing before him. All that mattered was that Ginny was lit up with a proud, smug smirk, reveling in her latest accomplishment. And while that look would’ve rubbed Mike the wrong way on any other face, on her it was just another facet he was grateful to uncover. 

“God, I love you,” he sighed, his stomach aching from all the laughter. 

It was only when Ginny went still, eyes wide and lips parted in shock that Mike went back and catalogued his words. 

Shit. Oh, shit. 

His mouth worked without anything to show for it. He tried to form the words to reassure her that it wasn’t what she thought, that he didn’t mean it, that she should forget it— 

But he just couldn’t. 

Not when saying so would be a filthy fucking lie. 

Instead, Mike stared helplessly at Ginny, speechless for once in his life. His heart thudded against the his ribs, threatening to burst with each second of silence. It wasn’t helped by the sheer variety of emotions that flickered across Ginny’s face, surprise and worry and hope and far more, there and gone too quick for him to name.

Finally, though, after what felt like an eternity of silence, she took a tiny step towards him, her chest practically pressed against his. Her face tipped up towards his and her full lips stretched into a bright, blinding, brilliant grin.

They were surrounded by hundreds of thousands of people, but it didn’t even matter. Mike couldn’t look away from the one thing he’d walked in knowing like the back of his hand. 

And why should he? He’d never seen someone so beautiful. 

“I know,” Ginny said, simple and easy and just as devastating as it’d been the first time Mike heard Han Solo say it.

She didn’t pull it off with quite the same self-assurance as a young Harrison Ford, but what did Mike care about that? Ginny Baker, in any circumstance, was way better than Harrison Ford.

He couldn’t help but grin back, so close to ducking down to see how well their smiles lined up.

Like she could read his mind, Ginny tucked her chin down and Mike broke out of the daze exhilaration and her eyes had put him under. Immediately, he cleared his throat, trying to nudge his heart back into its rightful place in his chest. As he did, he was suddenly and unpleasantly all too aware of the swirl of people eddying around them. He glanced around, worried that they’d caught the attention of someone with a smart phone. 

Only when he felt warm, dry fingers twine through his did Mike abandon his search and turn back to Ginny. Looking up shyly through her lashes, she offered, “We’ll pick this up later, okay?”

She squeezed his hand and a flood of relief rushed through him. It was the easiest thing in the world to reply, “Whenever you’re ready, Ginny.”

Her smile this time was less blinding, but just as precious. Mike reveled in the way her eyes roamed over his face. His thumb stroked over the delicate skin of her wrist and Ginny’s dimples deepened in reply.

Mike would’ve been more than happy to live in that moment for the foreseeable future.

Eventually, though, the bubble had to burst. They couldn’t just go on ignoring the thousands of people milling around them, after all. 

So, Ginny gave him a decisive nod and something shifted in her body language. Her smile remained, but it wasn’t the private thing that’d been there a moment ago. It turned playful. Mischievous. 

Mike knew that look too well to expect anything good from it. 

“C’mon, Lawson. I see a guy in a Chewbacca costume and I wanna see if there’s more hair in it or your beard.”

“Ha fucking ha, Baker,” he groaned, even as he followed her willingly through the crowd.

Maybe, though, that was more to do with the fact that her hand remained firmly in his.

That, Mike thought even as he curled his fingers more securely around hers, was a pretty good consolation. He would take that. 

Well. 

He’d take it for now, at least.

#Anonymous #bawson #bawson fic #pitch #pitch fic #i wrote something #listen i know the quote's not in #this movie #but let me have this

[pisati]

I don’t want to jump the gun here, but I’m nervous.

could be I’m just intimidated by the learning curve. I’m not familiar with procedure yet and everything is uncomfortable. I answered the phone the right way today but couldn’t hear the person on the line and of course it was busy and both the other receptionists were doing something and I had to awkwardly put them on hold and ugh

that’s not what’s making me nervous. it’s that I’ve only been there for two days, at half the amount of time I’m going to be working in a few weeks, and I’m already exhausted. 

it’s a lot to keep up with. I’ve had zero experience with our scheduling software and it’s complicated. I don’t know procedure at the clinic yet, and I don’t know how to navigate anything. I’m still learning what buttons to click. there’s so much they’re having me watch and, bless them, they’re explaining all of it, but I can’t absorb much of it. I’m still trying to learn people’s names. meanwhile I’m watching the receptionist that’s training me answering the phone no sweat, pulling up a search box, typing in the person’s name (sometimes it’s already being typed in as she’s answering because she saw the caller ID), taking a glance at the profile and without a pause asking about the pet by name, scrolling through the log of interactions and noting what vaccines and tests they’ve had and what they’re due for and what the doctors said, typing in notes about the call with abbreviations and details about everything, knowing where to right-click to pull up other boxes and add new notes or prescription requests, knowing which buttons to press for estimates and invoices and knowing what things look like when those things are ready and the charges are accurate... I know that’s what happens when you’ve had years of experience with it, and I shouldn’t be so intimidated as a newbie, but it really is intimidating. I still barely know what I’m looking at, let alone what half the vaccines are for. so I guess in that way it could be exhausting. just trying to process everything. maybe once it becomes more routine it’ll be less taxing.

everyone’s confident I’ll learn, and they’ve been really encouraging. I know eventually I’ll get it. I’m always nervous about messing up, but it is what it is. I know it’s going to happen. I’m glad everyone’s being so supportive, and I’m trying to get over my anxieties in a productive way. like I asked if we could maybe write down some generic scripts for making/answering different types of phone calls, because that I think is the biggest one I’m nervous about. I don’t know what to even say half the time. they wanted me to make an “easy” call earlier, and I know it was pretty easy (they just wanted to ask an owner if they could possibly come in 10 minutes earlier because the online appointment they booked overlapped with another appointment), but I had no idea how to even... what do you say? or, rather, how do I relay that information and also remember to introduce myself and the clinic and say everything else that needed to be said without rambling or stopping to look for the right words? I tried to remember how the girl training me phrased it so I could write it down, but I think she started a text document after that and is going to write down some basic scripts for me. and also for the training manual she wants to write, because they don’t even have one (??). she wrote the manual for the clinic she worked at in california, so she wants to start writing one for this clinic too. I’m just surprised it hasn’t been done yet. they might’ve had old training manuals, but.. they’re old now. might be good to write up a new one now, so I can be the guinea pig as a totally blank slate, lmao

anyways I’m just nervous about my energy levels. I’ve got two closing shifts tomorrow and friday, 12:30-7 and then 2-7, and I’m afraid tomorrow might actually kill me. I’ve only done 4 hours these last two days and it’s been hard. I crashed hard yesterday and today, even though I tried not to nap. it’s not even 8 hours tomorrow but I just know I’m going to leave that clinic, get in my car, be too tired to make dinner when I get home, and just want to go straight to bed. it reminds me of my last job, and I don’t like that at all. as much as it Sucks getting up at 6am, I think I’d much rather have morning shifts. I can be out in the afternoon, be able to do shopping if I need to, and it’ll still be daylight when I get home. I told them I didn’t have a preference as far as schedules, but I think I might. I didn’t want to say I preferred mornings because I never have, but I think now I’d rather have more time in my day than more time to sleep in and lay in bed feeling useless and tired til it’s time to go in, then close and go home just to go straight back to bed.

maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to tell the clinic manager that. she did want to sit down with me and go over things. for now I’m okay being flexible, and I might need flexibility since I have doctor appointments on scattered mornings. I guess I’ll see. 

other than that, it was a pretty good day today. relaxed, though it was a little busy; we had two emergency appointments we had to fit in in the morning, one dog who’d been throwing up all night and another who’d had a new kind of treat and the owner thought a piece of it might’ve gotten stuck. we had another come in with a bad cough later in the day. there were only two of us opening, and one of them was me and I’m basically useless lmao. so it was a little crazy, but we managed. 

the other receptionist I’ve been working with (the one who’s leaving soon) wasn’t there today, and I guess she’s the one who usually puts on music, so the one that’s training me put on spotify on her phone. I asked if she’d heard of noah gundersen, because some of the songs on her playlist reminded me of him, and she said she had! that was a surprise to me; literally nobody I know has heard of him. I only knew about him because he opened for city & colour a few years ago. turns out we have a lot of overlapping indie tastes, and some of hers are even more obscure than mine. so that’s really cool. I wasn’t sure if she was joking when she said “we should totally go!!” when I told her noah gundersen was touring in DC in october, but if I win that ticket contest I might ask if she wants to go. I already asked charlotte, so she’s got first dibs, but knowing her she’ll be too busy. even if I don’t win, I’ll probably want to buy tickets anyway. she told me about this artist she discovered a while back and played a song of his for me; he’d done a gorgeous cover of city & colour’s Waiting (she loves C&C too!!). and on his first tour to the US she talked to him, went to both of his shows in SF and LA, I think. she said she lived 2 hours north of LA and 4 hours south of SF, and she road tripped to both because she just liked his music that much. she says the artist knows her and her mom at this point and loves them both; he didn’t feel like flying to LA from SF so he apparently asked if he could road trip with them and she said it was a great time. that’s such a cool experience to have. 

so it was nice being able to bond with the coworkers a little, to have something in common to talk about. I didn’t have that at my last job. the one person nearest in age to me was almost 10 years older, so I didn’t have much to talk about with anyone. I didn’t follow sports or watch anything on tv that my all-male coworkers did, so all the pop culture references went right over my head (except one time when my coworker happened to also have watched Flint Town, the mini docuseries about Flint, MI, and we actually had a decent discussion about it). my supervisor and I basically just had the fact that we were women in common, lmao. the only two in the company, by the time I left. we’d joke about men sometimes, and she was cool to talk to when we needed a conversation break from work, but I still never felt all that comfortable there. the expectation was more... head down, work 8 straight hours, limit chit-chat, go home. 

of course at the clinic the expectation is work first, but it’s only human to talk to each other in between tasks. and it’s easy enough; most of our interruptions are phone calls and clients coming in, and all of us know to drop what we’re doing and attend to those first. it’s just nice to be able to relax a little and feel like a person, to be able to talk to other humans to get through the day and not feel guilty for having personal conversations because you know you’re still getting your work done in between. I don’t have to cram my fuzzy-socked feet into uncomfortable ballet flats or sit in the same seat for 8 straight hours, ruining my jaw propping my head up at my desk; I get to wear the comfy sneakers I got at walmart, scrubs, and yoga pants (for now-- I think they want us to wear scrub pants but I don’t have any in my size yet). I get to get up every once in a while, to check in patients and let the techs know the appointments are there, get medications, so on. I’m nervous for plenty of reasons, but I still definitely appreciate the environment at this clinic a hell of a lot. I’m sure it’ll help me feel more comfortable and more confident in myself in a work environment, especially once I start actually learning the ropes. I’ve been burned a lot with jobs that have been just beyond my capacity and I think I just need to rebuild that confidence. maybe if my health situation improves I’ll start being able to expand my capacity again. I feel like I definitely backslid, but I guess that’s just what happens when your health hasn’t been great for 10+ years. 

I emailed my psychiatrist’s office to ask if they’d gotten my EKG results 2 days after I’d gotten it done (my primary said I could even call that day because they were going to fax them right away), but they emailed me back saying they hadn’t gotten them. I should’ve called my primary days ago to ask them to actually send it, but I hate calling people (cool that I’m working as a receptionist now,,,). so today I went into my patient portal and looked for the results; I hadn’t been able to see them before because I guess they started using a new service or something? but whenever I tried to log in on chrome it’d just give me a spinny wheel and wouldn’t actually log me in. I thought to try safari today, because I remembered my bank had been giving me a similar issue for a while, and it worked. they’d uploaded my actual EKG chart to my profile, so I just downloaded it and emailed it to my psych’s office myself. I explained that my primary said it was totally normal and I’m cleared for adderall. hopefully that’s enough for my doc. we were kind of hoping that I’d be able to try the adderall before I started work, but I guess being part-time for 2 weeks isn’t the worst time to try it either. if my sending it to her is ok, maybe she’ll be able to send out the prescrip tomorrow. the hope is that, since it’s a stimulant, it’ll give me enough of an energy kick to be able to get through work days and be able to focus and retain a little more information. I hope that’s the end result, anyway. god knows I need the energy.

it’s good for me to get the anxieties out now. it actually does feel a little better to get them out and see them written out, because looking at them written down, from the outside, I do look like I’m hyperbolizing a bit. just worrying, worrying, worrying. I’m glad it’s just nagging worries and not actual anxiety, but I do wish my brain would shut up and let me do things. it’d be cool if I didn’t get so self-deprecating over little mistakes too, but one thing at a time. nervous, definitely, but I just need time. everything’s working out so far; got charlotte’s wedding on the calendar already just to get that definitely squared away. my sleep med doctor appointment is on a morning when I’m scheduled after noon. at least for the next few weeks I don’t have any problems or conflicts so that’s real nice. I think this week might be a pay week, so I’ll have to see if I’m getting paid yet; my first paycheck’s going to be really small but it’ll be something, and something is more than I’ve been getting for the last year, so. I can’t complain. I fixed an issue I had with my investment money yesterday, and I was really proud of myself for making a scary phone call and actually adulting, lol. I got that issue all sorted out thanks to the nice guy at the investment company who had to put some puzzle pieces together bc the guy that helped me do the transaction fucked up and I couldn’t figure out how (because I did this 4 months ago and only looked at it now 🙄). I’m just glad to have it sorted, and I’m meeting with my mom’s financial advisor on monday to talk about all of this too, so hopefully that’ll ease my mind some, just knowing that my financial situation is being taken care of. maybe I’ll start getting some sense of where I’m at relative to what I need for the things I want in the next few years, and I’ll be getting some guidance on how to get the most out of what I have. I don’t know anything about money and I’m terrible at numbers; I would rather not have any kind of involvement in the stock market at all. it’s too confusing and anything involving even a little bit of math makes me want to barf. but it’s the smartest move at this point and I know it. I’m just glad I have help. knowing that, knowing that things are generally okay, even if I’m still not in the best shape... I just feel balanced. I haven’t been able to feel that in a long-ass time, and god am I happy to be there. 

I just want to keep this calmness going. 

#an anxieties purge #wow am I glad I have a side blog so I don't have to feelings-dump on anyone else lmao #everyone should have a private outlet like that #it's always been a comfort just to sit down and write #even if I don't feel like I got it all out #blah blah

[hollywoodjuliorivas]

The Lord of Misrule David Brooks David Brooks JAN. 17, 2017 Continue reading the main storyShare This Page Share Tweet Email More Save 1763 Photo Fools in Johannes Lingelbach’s “Carnival in Rome” (Detail), c. 1650. Credit Getty Images King David was most compelling when he danced. Overcome by gratitude to God, he stripped down to his linens and whirled about before the ark of the covenant — his love and joy spilling beyond the boundaries of normal decorum. His wife, Michal, the daughter of King Saul, was repulsed by his behavior, especially because he was doing it in front of the commoners. She snarked at him when he got home for exposing himself in front of the servants’ slave girls like some scurrilous fellow. The early Christians seem to have worshiped the way David did, with ecstatic dancing, communal joy and what Emile Durkheim called “collective effervescence.” In her book “Dancing in the Streets,” Barbara Ehrenreich argues that in the first centuries of Christianity, worship of Jesus overlapped with worship of Dionysus, the Greek god of revelry. Both Jesus and Dionysus upended class categories. Both turned water into wine. Second- and third-century statuettes show Dionysus hanging on a cross. But when the church became more hierarchical, the Michals took over. Somber priest-led rituals began to replace direct access to the divine. In the fourth century, Gregory of Nazianzus urged, “Let us sing hymns instead of striking drums, have psalms instead of frivolous music and song, … modesty instead of laughter, wise contemplation instead of intoxication, seriousness instead of delirium.” Continue reading the main story ADVERTISEMENT Continue reading the main story When elites try to quash the manners and impulses of the people, those impulses are bound to spill out in some other way. By the Middle Ages the cathedrals were strictly hierarchical, so the people created carnivals where everything was turned on its head. During carnival (Purim is the Jewish version), men dressed like women, the people could insult the king and bishops, drunkenness and ribaldry was prized over sober propriety. As Ehrenreich puts it, “Whatever social category you had been boxed into — male or female, rich or poor — carnival was a chance to escape from it.” Sometimes the celebration took on an enthusiasm that is hard for us to fathom. In 1278, 200 people kept dancing on a bridge in Utrecht until it collapsed and all were drowned. The carnivals were partly a way to blow off steam, but in hard times they served as occasions for genuine populist revolts. In 1511, a carnival in Udine, Italy, turned into a riot that led to the murder of 50 nobles and the sacking of more than 20 palaces. Sign Up for the Opinion Today Newsletter Every weekday, get thought-provoking commentary from Op-Ed columnists, the Times editorial board and contributing writers from around the world. Sign Up Receive occasional updates and special offers for The New York Times's products and services. SEE SAMPLE MANAGE EMAIL PREFERENCES PRIVACY POLICY Carnival culture was raw, lascivious and disgraceful, and it elevated a certain social type, the fool. There were many different kinds of fools: holy fools, hapless fools, vicious fools. Fools were rude and frequently unabashed liars. They were willing to make idiots of themselves. The point of the fool was not to be admirable in himself, but to be the class clown who had the guts to talk back to the teacher. People enjoyed carnival culture, the feast of fools, as a way to take a whack at the status quo. You can see where I’m going with this. We live at a time of wide social inequality. The intellectual straitjackets have been getting tighter. The universities have become modern cathedrals, where social hierarchies are defined and reinforced. We’re living with exactly the kinds of injustices that lead to carnival culture, and we’ve crowned a fool king. Donald Trump exists on two levels: the presidential level and the fool level. On one level he makes personnel and other decisions. On the other he tweets. (I honestly don’t know which level is more important to him.) His tweets are classic fool behavior. They are raw, ridiculous and frequently self-destructive. He takes on an icon of the official culture and he throws mud at it. The point is not the message of the tweet. It’s to symbolically upend hierarchy, to be oppositional. ADVERTISEMENT Continue reading the main story The assault on Representative John Lewis was classic. He picked one of the most officially admired people in the country and he leveled the most ridiculous possible charge (all talk and no action). It was a tweet devilishly well crafted to create the maximum official uproar. Anybody who writes for a living knows how to manipulate an outraged response, and Trump is a fool puppet master. The sad part is that so many people treat Trump’s tweets as if they are arguments when in fact they are carnival. With their conniption fits, Trump’s responders feed into the dynamic he needs. They contribute to carnival culture. The first problem with today’s carnival culture is that there’s an ocean of sadism lurking just below the surface. The second is that it’s not real. It doesn’t really address the inequalities that give rise to it. It’s just combative display. This is a resolution I’m probably going to break, but I resolve to write about Trump only on the presidential level, not on the carnival level. I’m going to try to respond only to what he does, not what he says or tweets. I really wish some of my media confreres would do the same.